


Supernova

by ghostofgatsby



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves, Greyromantic, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Somewhat RPF, Werewolves, werewolf!Ross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morning run complete, Ross slips into a Starbucks on the way home. He’s sweaty and probably looks disgusting, face unshaven and hair a complete mess, but Ross just can’t be bothered.<br/>The bell on the door chimes as another patron steps inside. The warmth of the summer air rushes into the cafe.<br/>And with it, Ross’ senses are kicked into high gear.</p><p>Ross is happily with Smith and Trott, but then Colin walks into the picture, and his whole world is thrown out of orbit. Suddenly he's howling after this twiggy son-of-a-twink, and he doesn't know what to think. His love for Smith and Trott doesn't change, but he doesn’t know what he wants from Colin. And that’s confusing as all hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> According to Wikipedia- “A supernova is a stellar explosion that briefly outshines an entire galaxy, radiating as much energy as the Sun or any ordinary star is expected to emit over its entire lifespan, before fading from view over several weeks or months”
> 
> soulmate bonds you don't want  
> because I’m all about those awkward feelings, apparently.  
> I really like this, I think it turned out really cute. The idea popped into my brain and I just couldn’t let it go. I wrote it in like, four hours? Maybe? It was written really easily, edited up fine and everything.
> 
> I start college again next week, and I have no idea how long it'll be until I get the next UMY thing done. But I'll try to get something out every month if I can. (I've got a couple non-UMY one-shot pieces ready to go.) No promises, but I'll try.
> 
> cws?: making out, sexual innuendos, comments, and mentions; allusions to being kinky; mention of knotting as an interest  
> If I need to tag anything else, let me know.  
> Colin the journalist is only mentioned in this fic as the brunette from Starbucks, with a bit of description as per the character interpretation of voidalhoneybee.
> 
> greyromantic werewolf Ross, queerplatonic poly relationships  
> Hatsome/Marble Bathbomb Weremate AU
> 
> want to reblog? https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2015/10/19/supernova-ghostofgatsby/

Morning run complete, Ross slips into a Starbucks on the way home. He’s sweaty and probably looks disgusting, face unshaven and hair a complete mess, but Ross just can’t be bothered. The patrons are going to have to deal with his body odor until he can buy his coffee and head home.

He shuffles his feet as he waits in line, hands fiddling with his keys, phone, and wallet in the pocket of his sweatpants. His tank top sticks to his back with sweat, and Ross shivers in the chill of the air conditioning.

The bell on the door chimes as another patron steps inside. The warmth of the summer air rushes into the cafe.

And with it, Ross’ senses are kicked into high gear.

_Lemon poundcake, incense, lavender, woodsmoke and peppermint._

He breathes in deeply, and turns his head to find the source.

At the door is a brunette with bright green glasses. He’s wearing a floral top and neon pink short shorts. He’s got legs for days, and the exposed skin the color of cocoa butter makes Ross’ mouth water.

_Fucking hell..._

He snaps his mouth shut when he realizes he’s been staring at him with his mouth open.

His heart is kicking at his chest. The wolf inside him _growls_ possessively.

 _Shush_ , Ross whispers to it. The wolf’s voice gets louder.

_Mate._

Ross backpedals internally.

_Mate? No, no, no, no, no..._

This was not happening right now.

The brunette looks up from his phone and meets Ross’ eyes. His eyes are the color of honey in tea.

The barista calls for the customer in front of him and Ross forces himself to look away.

But oh, does he want to look back.

His wolf is still growling, telling him to buy the brunette a coffee.

Ross tells the wolf to shut up.

“Next! What can I get you?” The barista calls to him.

“Coffee. Black.” Ross stammers. “Make it double.”

When his order is filled he pushes towards the door. The brunette isn’t standing next to it anymore, and Ross forces himself away from the scents he so desperately wants to track.

 _Who was he?_ Ross wonders as he walks away from Starbucks and back towards the house.

He can’t stop the questions that spin inside his mind.

He wants to go back there and talk to him.

_Fuck, why do I want him so badly? I’ve never wanted anyone like this before._

_It shouldn’t be like this._

The wolf inside him paces, unsettled with his decision to leave the Starbucks without talking to the brunette.

Ross feels so very deeply that whoever he saw in the cafe is his...mate.

Thinking the word just feels so wrong. But it makes sense, and he can’t deny it.

Even still, guilt twists in his gut. No amount of coffee loosens it.

How is he supposed to explain this to Smith and Trott? This deep and sudden feeling of lust and belonging- he’s never felt it like this. He doesn’t feel this strongly, ever.

Smith and Trott, they’re the ones that should be his mates. Ross would do anything for them. He’s fiercely protective of them, and loyal to a fault.

Romance, though, has always been weird. It took him ages to let them kiss him because he was terrified they would fall in love with him. They’ve told him they care about him the way he cares about them, and they leave it at that.

Though he loves them, it’s not an ‘in love’ classically romantic feeling. Ross doesn’t define their relationship with the term “boyfriends” either. And he can’t picture himself dating this brunette at Starbucks at all.

At least that feeling is normal for him.

But to fall so strongly, into whatever these feelings are, and already assign the term ‘mate’ to them? All without meeting or speaking?

It’s terrifying.

The coffee makes him feel even more on edge. Ross fumbles with his keys in the lock. He holds his breath as he opens the door to their home and prays his housemates aren’t up yet.

If he focuses hard enough, he can hear their steady breaths where they sleep in Smith’s bed.

Ross lets out the breath he’d been holding and closes the door. He does up the locks and passes through the kitchen to throw his empty cup away.

He wants nothing more than to go back to bed, but he reeks of sweat and he would feel guilty anyway.

_I shouldn’t feel guilty. Whatever this is, it’s natural. Isn’t it?_

Ross groans to himself, taking a shower and letting the water work the soreness from his back.

_I don’t know._

 

Ross spends more time in the shower than he normally does. He lets the water calm him down and soothe his muscle soreness from his run. Once he’s cleaned up, Ross dries himself off and ties the towel around his waist. He ventures from the bathroom in search of clothes.

From the stillness of the house, Ross can tell neither Smith nor Trott is up yet. But by the shifting of sheets he can hear, one of them is probably awake.

Ross makes his way to his room and starts getting dressed. Superdry t-shirt and jeans, the usual. As he pulls the t-shirt over his head he can hear the floor above him creak. By the lightness of the steps and the rate at which they cross the room towards the stairs, Ross knows it’s Trott.

A few minutes later and he’s at his door.

“Hey.” Ross greets softly, meeting Trott’s eyes through the mirror on his closet door.

“Good morning.” Trott smiles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His shirt is rumpled, either from sleep or from stepping on it a million times on the way to bed.

Ross clicks his closet door shut and turns to face him.

“How was your run?” Trott asks.

“Good.” Ross walks up to him and presses a kiss to the top of Trott’s head, nuzzling his bed-messed hair. He can smell Smith’s cologne on Trott, along with the scent of Trott’s shampoo, and it makes him smile. “How was sleep?”

“Good.” Trott chuckles. “Smith didn’t kick me in the shin tonight.”

Ross giggles. “He didn’t kick me either. We should give him a gold star.”

Trott laughs. He stretches up to peck a kiss to Ross’ lips. “Do you want to make breakfast, or should I?”

“Hm, depends. Do you want to actually eat it, or nah?”

Trott smacks him in the arm and Ross laughs.

“I can actually cook, you know.” The shortest of the three huffs, walking down the hall towards the kitchen.

Ross follows behind, chuckling. “Just to be safe, Trott: you prep; I’ll cook.”

 

As Ross slides the third omelet onto a plate, Smith decides to join his other two housemates for breakfast. The sound of his footsteps thundering down the stairs is a drumroll to announce his entrance into the kitchen.

Smith hooks his arm around Ross’ waist and presses himself closer to the werewolf. Ross hums as Smith kisses the back of his neck.

“‘Morning...” Smith murmurs into his skin.

Ross chuckles and turns off the burner on the stove before turning to face Smith.

The minute Ross is facing him, Smith pulls him into a kiss. Warmth spreads between them, and Ross threads his fingers through Smith’s auburn locks.

Trott coughs behind his tea. He’s already eating at the table.

Ross and Smith pull apart, and Ross chuckles. “Good morning, indeed.” He licks his lips and Smith smirks.

“Did you make me breakfast?” The tallest of the three asks. The sunlight coming through the kitchen window makes his blue eyes sparkle.

“Mhm.” Ross smiles. “It’s on the table.”

Smith grins and kisses Ross again. “Thanks.” He pulls away and takes his seat, immediately digging in.

Trott coughs pointedly.

“Sounds like you’re catching a cold, Trotty.” Smith retorts with a grin.

Ross takes the final omelet from the counter and sits down at his place at the kitchen table.

Trott rolls his eyes at Smith and stands to refill his mug of tea.

“Do I have to do _everything_ myself?” He asks rhetorically.

“Yes.” Ross and Smith chorus.

Trott scoffs. He fills Smith’s mug as well, and sets it down in front of his plate.

Smith swallows a bite of omelet and looks up. “Thanks for the tea, Trott.”

Trott smiles and tilts Smith’s chin up further to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

Ross grins at the happiness in their features, and continues to eat the breakfast he’d cooked.

 

“Alright there, mate?”

Trott’s question brings Ross out of his daydream.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He replies, glancing over the monitor at Trott for a moment before going back to his editing.

Ross chews at his bottom lip as he scans the footage for today’s video.

_Liar._

He’d been thinking about the brunette he saw at Starbucks.

 _Why bright green?_ He wants to ask. He wants to brush his fingers along the frames of his glasses, through the hair styled up at the top of his head.

 _Knock it off_ , Ross tells the wolf. _I don’t have time for this._

The wolf growls back.

Ross sighs and leans back in his chair. Not even mindless editing will get his mate- _no_ , not that, he’s just some _guy_ \- off his mind.

“You sure you’re alright?” Trott pries, brows furrowing. He gives Ross a pointed look over the top of the monitor.

Ross chews his lip harder and forcibly buries himself in editing. “It’s fine.” He tells Trott.

Trott rolls his eyes because he doesn’t believe him, but he leaves Ross alone for the time being.

The werewolf rubs his face and tries to get himself to focus. This uneasy feeling inside him makes him want to go for a run- that’s why he runs in the mornings, to calm the wolf each day.

But if he goes for another run right now, Ross knows he’s going to track the brunette from Starbucks by his scent.

And that’s just fucking creepy of him.

He looks at the clock. If he can get through today’s editing, they can work on recording something. Games are the fastest way to get his mind off of things he doesn’t want to think about.

Holding onto that, Ross goes back to his editing work, and tries desperately not to think of eyes that match the color of the tea on his desk.

 

Sometime after dinner, responsibilities complete, the trio finds themselves close together on the couch.

Smith slides up next to Ross, drawing him into a kiss and stroking his stubble-dusted jawline.

Ross moans against his lips. He feels Trott’s hands come around his waist and his mouth take up residence on the side of his neck.

Trott sucks bruises into Ross’ skin, and Ross tilts his head to give Trott more room.

All Ross can smell is Smith and Trott, Trott and Smith.

But the wolf in him wonders what it’d be like to taste cocoa brown skin...

“Wait.” Ross stammers, breaking the kiss. He reluctantly pushes Smith away.

Trott takes his mouth off of Ross’ neck.

“There’s something we need talk about.” Ross says with a wince.

Smith and Trott blink at him, surprised.

“What do you mean?” Smith asks.

Ross bristles at the barely-there worry in his voice, wants to apologize immediately for anything and everything.

Trott scoots out from behind him and walks around to perch in Smith’s lap. “What’s up, sunshine?” He asks Ross. He strokes Ross’ cheek with the back of his hand.

“It’s-” Ross looks away. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t even understand it.” He rubs the back of his neck and swallows thickly.

“Take your time.” Smith murmurs.

“Start at the beginning.” Trott advises.

“I just- I don’t want to-” Ross wrings his hands and stands up, pacing the length of the room as he talks. “I don’t want to screw this up. I’m scared that I screwed up already, but I can’t even control it and that’s even worse. I’m terrified that this changes everything. And I don’t want it to.” The words spew from his mouth like stray sparks, and he can hardly make sense of what he’s saying. It’s all a babble. “I don’t want anything to change, I don’t want any of this to change, I don’t want-”

“ _Ross_.” Trott snaps, and the werewolf comes to a staggering halt.

Ross looks up at Trott sheepishly, frowning.

Trott sighs. “Come here, you twat.” He holds out his hand.

Ross takes a deep breath. He stares at Trott’s hand, upturned and stretched out for him to take, and then up at Trott.

He waits patiently.

Ross takes his hand.

“Ross, nothing, and I repeat _nothing_ , is going to change if you don’t want it to.” Trott consoles him, pressing kisses to the back of his hand. “We told you that in the beginning, and we’re sticking by that until we agree otherwise.”

“Which is code for never.” Smith speaks up, smiling at Ross brightly. “I’m pretty confident this won’t change anytime soon.”

“But what if it cancels out everything we have?” Ross starts, “What if it overrides-”

Trott cuts him off. “Does it feel any different between us?”

Ross bites his lip. His wolf is intensely interested in the brunette he saw at Starbucks, but the feelings he and the wolf feel for Smith and Trott haven’t changed.

He shakes his head.

“Is this a wolf thing? Is that what’s got you so worried?” Trott asks as if reading his mind, dropping their intertwined hands to his lap.

Ross nods.

“Fuck, mate.” Smith laughs. “We haven’t had a problem yet, why would whatever this is be one of them?”

_Mate._

Ross swallows thickly and extracts his hand from Trott’s grip. “I don’t know what you’re going to think.” He admits, biting his lip.

Trott smiles. “You’ll never know if you don’t tell us.”

Ross gestures for them to move, and Smith and Trott rearrange themselves on the couch. Smith scoots farther back and Trott settles between his legs. Ross lays down on the remaining length of the couch, hooking his feet over the armrest on the other end and situating his head in Trott’s lap.

"You're a lap-dog, mate." Trott insists.

“Shut the fuck up, Trott.” Ross scowls grumpily, but there’s no heat to his words.

Trott’s fingers stroke through his hair, scratching at his scalp gently and bringing him comfort. It settles his nerves and focuses his thoughts.

“I think...” Ross starts, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I think I may have found a mate.”

He thanks all the deities with the words he doesn’t have that Trott’s fingers don’t stop or falter in their movements.

“I went for a run this morning,” Ross continues, willing his voice to remain steady, “And I stopped for coffee at Starbucks on the way home.”

The tension in his chest won’t subside, but he powers through.

“I was waiting in line and...when someone came in I caught a whiff of their scent. It was the strongest thing I’ve ever smelled and the wolf picked up on that immediately.”

Ross tightens his grip on the front of the t-shirt he’s wearing. He knows he’s getting it horribly wrinkled but right now that’s not what he’s worried about the most.

“The entire time I’m in the cafe, I can’t stop thinking about them. About the way they look, about the way they smell. And there’s this strong, undeniable feeling that I can’t explain. The wolf keeps telling me- keeps telling me they’re my mate, but I...”

Ross sighs.

“I don’t want a relationship with them. I don’t want to date them. I’m happy how I am. But I can’t explain the strength of my...of my wolf’s attraction.”

He stays quiet for a long time, mulling over what he said and trying to get his heart rate back to normal.

“Is that all?” Smith asks softly.

Ross scoffs. “Yeah, that’s- that’s all. Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Smith’s hand rubs warmth into his shoulder. His fingers curl into the divot where arm and shoulder meets.

“Is that everything, Ross?” Trott asks, fingers finally moving from his hair.

“Yeah...” Ross sighs. “That’s everything.” He opens his eyes.

 

“If you need to find out what he means to you, then that’s up to you to decide.”

Ross groans over a mug of tea and rests his head in his hands. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me?”

“Because that’s not our job, and you’re your own person.” Smith chuckles from behind him, rubbing the tension out of Ross’ shoulders. “Ross, if you want to pursue him, that’s okay with us. As long as he’s aware who we are and what that means.”

“And that your safe and healthy.” Trott adds, blowing the steam off another cup of tea. His heels tap the cabinets as he swings his legs idly where he’s sitting on the kitchen counter. “If this guy’s a scumbag, I don’t care if he’s your mate, he can go fuck himself.”

Ross hides his smile and lifts his mug of tea to take a sip.

“Honestly mate, your wolf having a sexual libido the size of the moon is nothing new.” Smith pats his back and smirks as he rounds the table to take the seat next to Ross.

Trott toasts to that statement with a laugh, while Ross just rolls his eyes.

“Strong sexual desire doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He whines, staring down at the table, embarrassed. "Like, I wanna fuck him 'til he can't walk and shit."

"That's not that bad.” Trott scoffs.

" _I want to knot him and make him mine._ " Ross growls.

"O-kay, uh.” Trott chuckles awkwardly. “That's...that's a bit weird, I'll give you that."

"A bit weird? A BIT? _You think?_ ” Ross shrieks. “I don't normally have these thoughts. Not ever. Like, I keep wondering what the fuck is wrong with me. Am I even normal?”

Trott shrugs. “We’re not werewolves, mate. Sorry.”

“I know.” Ross groans. “I’ve got no fucking idea what to do, though.”

“I’d say follow your instincts, but...” Smith slurps at his tea.

“If I followed my instincts, Smith, I would have fucked him on the counter at Starbucks.”

Trott bursts into laughter as Smith almost spits his tea everywhere because of Ross’ response.

“The fact of the matter is, is that I may not even see him again, and all this stress was for nothing.” The werewolf laments, scowling down at the color of the tea.

“Never know if you don’t try.” Trott says, setting his mug on the counter beside him. “If you want to see him again, go to Starbucks in the morning.”

“You’re right.” Ross sighs. “But maybe I should get a second opinion.”

 

“Sorry for coming by this late.”

“Not a problem! Want something to drink?” Strippin waves him inside his apartment, grinning happily.

Ross shakes his head. “Nah, I drove here so...probably best if I stay sober.”

“You can always crash here.” Strippin offers.

“Yeah, but I told Smith and Trott I’d be home soon.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Alright.” Strippin winks at him over his shoulder as he leads him into the living room. “Make yourself at home!”

Ross smiles. Strippin’s flat was always warm and welcoming. Part of the reason was because he was another werewolf with a pack, and Ross was a lone wolf. The other reason was that Strippin’s flat consistently smelled like chocolate chip cookies and had some of the comfiest hand-me-down couches he’d ever sat on.

Ross flops down on the couch under the window, kicking up his feet and relaxing back into the cushions.

“So, what brings you here this time of night?” Strippin asks, falling back on the couch opposite him.

Ross chuckles nervously. “I’ve got a few wolf questions.”

“You said that over text. What do you want to know?”

Ross bites his lip. “I think I found a mate, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Strippin laughs knowingly. He knew about giving into a mating bond, and what comes after.

“What was it like, when you mated with Benji?” Ross asks.

“It's not like you're gonna have his pups, or that he'll have yours.” Strippin says first, grinning cheekily.

"It's-" Ross lets out a thankful sigh. "It's not?"

Strippin scoffs. "No, we're still male bodied. We can't get pregnant, this isn't mpreg fic."

“Thank fuck...”

“Yeah. If you bond with him, your just gonna fuck like rabbits. Or like dogs in heat, in our cases.”

“How long does that last?”

“What, the insatiable libido when around them?”

Ross nods.

“Could be a few hours, days, months. Could be forever.” Strippin shrugs. “It’s all dependent upon the bond.”

“How long does this ‘mate’ thing last?”

“I’ve heard varying theories. Some say it lasts until you get tired of it. Others say it only lasts for a designated amount of time. And the people who believe in soulmates think it lasts forever.” Strippin sighs and folds his arms across his chest. “Ross, if he’s the person he’s meant to be- a soulmate- whatever you want from him he’ll accept. Even if that means wanting nothing from him at all.”

“Right...” Ross traces a rip in the fabric of Strippin’s couch. “The thing is, I don't even know this guy. I don't want a relationship, and I don’t want-”

Strippin held up his hand to stop him from babbling senselessly. “Look, as I see it, you've got two options: talk to him, or don’t.”

“I don't know if I could _not_...I mean, I'm not going to force myself on him or some shit. But I'm not sure I can keep myself away. Not when my wolf desires him so strongly."

“Then talk to him.”

“But what if-”

“If he wants to talk to you, you go from there. Just let him know, Ross. Tell him flat out what your comfortable with. And if he doesn't agree, then screw him.”

“Screwing him is what I'm trying to avoid doing, Strippin.”

“I didn't mean have sex with him.” Strippin scoffs. “I meant avoid him. Over time you'll forget he even exists.”

“Are you sure? Could you have left Benji?”

Strippin winces. "Benji was an entirely different scenario."

"Yeah, I know.” Ross sighs. “So you’ve told me."

Strippin hums, thinking for a moment. "I don't blame you for being hesitant. I'm sure Smith and Trott are a handful enough."

"Tell me about it." Ross chuckles.

"More like two handfuls, probably." Strippin amends with a cheeky smile.

Ross grins, laughter bubbling from his lips. "Who says I only use my hands, Strippin?"

Strippin shakes his head in mock-disapproval. “Fucking dirty bugger, aren’t you?”

“Says you.”

“Oh, come off it. I’ll have you know I’m one-hundred percent cleaner than the three of you.”

Ross laughs. “Yeah, you and Benji curl up in bed and read before you go to sleep. You’re a fucking married couple, and your not even old.”

Strippin shrugs. “Can’t help it that we’re as vanilla as it gets. We can’t all be the kinkiest wolves in the city, you know.”

The grin on Ross’ face puts his wolf to shame. “To each his own, Strippin. To each his own.”

 

The gray morning sky of England made Ross feel all the more tired.  It was early yet, and he wasn’t quite awake. He’d dragged himself from a warm bed and downstairs to get dressed and get a cup of tea in him. Now he stood at the kitchen sink, waiting to rinse out his mug and watching the sun come up. He could see the dew on the grass from the kitchen window.

After talking with Strippin, he still hadn’t decided what to do about the brunette at Starbucks. Strippin had told him the same thing Smith and Trott had- that the decision was his to make.

 _Well, fuck that..._ Ross thinks, getting fed up with waiting for the sun and leaving his mug in the sink un-rinsed. _I’m going for a run anyway, and if I run into the guy...then it’s up to fate._

 _But what about Starbucks?_ His wolf asks, excitable because of the run Ross was about to partake in.

What about it? It didn’t matter if he bought coffee there or not. They had tea at home, and that would do just fine when he got back from his run. He’d save money if he didn’t spend it on shitty overpriced coffee.

Ross turns towards the door. Leftover change is sitting at the edge of the counter, probably from the laundry Trott had done the day before last.

Ross picks up a quarter and turns it over in his palm.

Heads, he goes to Starbucks. Tails, he doesn’t.

Legend is the coin will tell you what you really want.

Ross takes a deep breath and flips the coin.

 

 


End file.
